


Shattered Into Ash

by gleefulfan



Series: The Gallavich Interlude [2]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Bipolar Disorder, M/M, Medical Professionals, Minor Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-23 14:40:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3772054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gleefulfan/pseuds/gleefulfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Ian crawled into his bed that night for the first time in he wasn’t sure how long and fell into a peaceful sleep almost immediately. He finally didn’t have anyone left to disappoint."</p>
<p>Picking up right after the finale now from Ian's POV</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shattered Into Ash

**Author's Note:**

> Part 2 in a series exploring the months following the events of 5x12. This is from Ian's POV and covers the same three months Part 1 covered with Mickey. You don't have read that one to understand this one, but I would recommend reading them both.

Right after the breakup (and the almost impossible to believe Sammi shootout/arrest), Ian surprised himself by feeling relief more than anything. The pressure to be _Mickey’s_ Ian, from himself as much as Mickey, had just been too much to handle. Ian didn’t know what the future held, he didn’t have a clue what to do about his medication or his disease or work or anything, but now that it was just him, it didn’t matter so much.

Mickey . . . Mickey would be ok. He was a survivor, hell, now that he was openly gay maybe he would find a real boyfriend, one he didn’t have to track the guy’s food and bowel movements for. Fiona and Lip and Debbie, the siblings were all in this together – they all played the same genetic lottery and Ian lost. But they grew up with Monica, they knew how to deal with this and Ian wasn’t going to be as bad as her anyway.

Ian crawled into his bed that night for the first time in he wasn’t sure how long and fell into a peaceful sleep almost immediately. He finally didn’t have anyone left to disappoint.

* * *

The next few days were a stark reminder for Ian of how empty his life was without Mickey. Granted, that had sort of been the point but that didn’t make it any less boring and depressing now. Somehow he still had his job at the diner, though everyone looked at him like he was only there because the boss was in love with his sister, which was true.

But other than that, nothing. He didn’t have Mickey, he didn’t have ROTC or the army, he didn’t have his friends from his clubbing days. He cleaned the house, he got the groceries, he moved the damn pool after more complaints from the lesbians. 

He offered to watch Liam but Fiona and Debbie said they had it covered for now, that he should focus on getting better. Ian knew that meant they didn’t trust him to watch Liam, but he didn’t press the issue. It was probably smart for them to say no.

About a week later, Fiona knocked on his door as he laid on his bed playing the new Candy Crush levels on his phone. “Got a minute?”

“Sure, what’s up?” Ian shifted into a sitting position so Fiona could join him on the bed.

“I don’t want to push you, but what are you thinking about your meds?”

Ian put his head against the wall and ran his fingers through his hair. “I honestly have no idea. I don’t want to do stupid shit, I don’t want to pull Monicas. But the meds, god Fiona you don’t even know. I can’t function on them, I can’t live like that.” Ian felt tears welling but tried to hold them back. He needed to be able to at least hold a fucking conversation with his sister without crying.

“Well I have something you could try, if you’re willing. Do you know about Lip’s professor?”

“The one he’s banging?”

“Yeah, that one.” Ian couldn’t help but smile a bit at Fiona’s tone. It was not exactly her favorite of Lip’s many romances. “Lip had talked to her a little about your situation and she apparently has a good friend who’s a psychiatrist at the school. Or he teaches and practices I guess, I’m not sure. But he’s supposed to be one of the best in the city, so Helene says.”

“We can’t exactly afford a fancy doctor,” Ian pointed out.

“He said he’d see you pro bono, that any friend of Helene’s was a friend of his, and well you’re close enough I guess.”

“Really?” Ian couldn’t really believe it. Rich people didn’t exactly go around doing Gallaghers favors unless something was in it for them, though he supposed that still kind of fit with Lip and Helene. Maybe she was banging the doctor too?

“Yeah, he can see you next week if you’re willing. I don’t know what might come of it, but it’s worth a try, right? Maybe he can find you some kind of middle ground between no medication and bad medication.”

Ian didn’t want to take away from Fiona’s newfound hope, even if he didn’t particularly share it. Maybe some people could be helped, but for him it seemed like it was Monica’s life or this and he wasn’t suited to living in the woods with a meth dealer.

But he didn’t have anything else to do. “Sure, it can’t hurt. I’ll go.” Fiona’s smile had already made the trip worth it.

* * *

The waiting room in the doctor’s office was definitely the nicest one Ian had ever been in. Comforting music played softly from invisible speakers and a large fish tank took up most of one wall. After checking in at the front desk, Ian sunk into one of the comfortable couches, trying to avoid any thoughts of bolting.

Fiona and Lip had both offered to come with him but he insisted on going alone. Ian couldn’t exactly send his siblings away like he had Mickey, but he would be damned if he inconvenienced them any more than absolutely necessary. He also didn’t want them to get their hopes up that this doctor was somehow going to be any better than the ones he’d already seen. Just because he cost more didn’t mean he was going to have any answers other than ‘take these drugs or be crazy.’

The nurse called Ian’s name and he trudged behind her to the back offices. After the typical intake tests and questions he was sent to the doctor’s office and left to wait.

The office was much more homey than your typical doctor’s office, with the walls painted a soothing deep blue lit by large windows and a couch behind the two chairs facing the doctor’s desk. Ian took a seat in one of the chairs, not sure if the couch was meant for a patient like him or not.

After a few minutes, the door opened and the doctor walked in. He was attractive and well dressed and clearly took care of himself despite looking to be in his 40s or 50s. The dancers back at the Fairy Tail would have been all over him, looking for a $20 or $50 or even a sugar daddy, but Ian didn’t get any gay vibes off of him. Plus there was a picture of a wife and kids on the wall, though he knew well enough that that didn’t mean much.

“Hi Ian, I’m Dr. Maxwell Glaser, but feel free to call me Max. How are you feeling today?”

“Okay, I guess. Pretty normal.”

“No unusual mood swings? Any events that seem out of place or odd? Any issues with your energy levels or appetite?” Ian shook his head no to each question. “Great, well that means we can use your vital signs and responses today as a baseline and then use them to compare for future visits.”

“Future visits?” Ian asked. He figured this was a one-time favor.

“Sorry, let me back up before we get into all that. Helene gave me a quick overview of the situation, but I’d like to hear it in your words, from the beginning.”

Ian had to stop himself from laughing. When was the beginning, his birth? Monica’s first diagnosis? However far back this stupid disease went in his family? “I’m not really sure where to start.”

“When was the first time you did something that you would say is radically out-of-character for you? Something you think about now and almost can’t believe you actually did?”

Ian went with the first thing that came to mind. “Well, about a year ago, I went through a really bad break-up and I took my brother’s I.D. and joined the army, even though I was only seventeen.” In retrospect that was pretty insanely stupid, though Ian wasn’t sure how much to blame on the disease and how much to blame on Mickey marrying Svetlana.

“That sounds like a good place to start. Can you take me through what’s happened in your life since then, including anything that your think might be relevant to your diagnosis.”

A tour through his greatest hits of craziness, just what Ian was looking forward to reviewing. “Well things didn’t go well with the army and I sort of tried to steal a helicopter and came back to Chicago. Then I spent some time with my mom, who is bipolar and refuses to take pills for it. Eventually, I got back with my ex and stayed with him for a while and things seemed good. Soon after I had what I guess you call a depressive episode, where I couldn’t get out of bed for weeks. After that things were ok for a while again.”

Ian hated even thinking about the next part, much less telling someone about it. If something had happened to Yevgeny, he couldn’t have lived with himself. “Eventually my boyfriend confronted me about needing to go to the hospital and I sort of bailed, except I kind of took his kid too.” Ian was expecting a reaction from doctor after saying that, but he apparently had quite the poker face.

“Go on,” Max said.

“I got stopped by the police and then I checked into the hospital for a 72 hour evaluation and was diagnosed with Bipolar I Disorder. They prescribed me some meds, I gave the list to your nurse. I didn’t really want to take them but I started to after I hallucinated and almost hurt my little sister. The side effects were, you know, not good. Then the army found me and arrested me, but didn’t charge me because of the disease. After that I spent a few more days with my mom, who’s now dating a meth dealer, but now I’m back at home and sitting here.” Ian fell back into the chair, already tired of talking about all of the mistakes he’d made.

“That is quite the story Ian, but believe it or not I have heard worse, much worse. The baby and your sister are fine, right? And you’re not facing any charges from anyone, right?” Ian nodded. “Then I think we’re in a good starting place.”

The doctor paused for a moment, considering what he was going to say. “Obviously I don’t need to tell you that you almost certainly have Bipolar I, we both know that. But with all due respect to the Cook County Psychiatric Ward, I want to try reframe for you what we’re facing.” 

“Let me use a military metaphor, that seems appropriate all things considered. Dealing with Bipolar Disorder is like fighting a war. Medication is like the infantry, the front lines. You’re never going to win if you don’t have a good strong infantry to go to battle with when the enemy attacks. But just having an infantry makes for a pretty bad army, right?”

Ian nodded. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“You need an air force and a navy and the cavalry. Do they still have the cavalry?”

Ian smiled. “Not really, not with like horses. But the artillery is kind of a modern comparison.”

“Great, well the metaphor is going to break down here, but hopefully you get my drift. We are going to get you on the right medication, which might not happen today, but we’ll keep trying until we do. I can’t promise you no side effects, but I can promise you reasonable, bearable ones. It’s not one size fits all like at the hospital.”

Ian was doubtful but the idea of drugs that would actually help without screwing up his life in five other ways was incredibly appealing. “That would be really good.”

“But that’s not all, remember that’s just the infantry. You’re going to come seem me regularly, once a week at first, for therapy sessions. We’re going to go over ways you can deal with both the disease and the medication so that they have a limited effect on your life, as well as any other related issues that might crop up. And we’re going to regulate your sleep patterns, exercise, food, as much as you can handle really. Hopefully the army prepared you a little for this kind of thing.”

Ian was honestly a little floored. He had no idea that this sort of treatment plan even existed. He still wasn’t sure that this doctor could do all the things he was promising, but Ian was willing to try. It certainly sound a million times better than anything else he’d ever heard or seen about being Bipolar. “I will, I can follow whatever rules you think I should, I didn’t know this stuff affected it.”

“All of these will help limit and reduce the impact of episodes and give you a way to handle them when they do arise.”

That brought Ian back down to earth. “So I’ll still have the episodes, no matter what?” What was the point of any of this if he just ended up like Monica no matter what he did?

“Most likely. But they don’t need to be debilitating. This is what I want you to imagine for your future, let’s say in a year or two. You recognize the early symptoms of a manic episode. You stick to your well-established routines. You schedule a visit with me or whomever your doctor is. Maybe your medication is adjusted a bit. If you have a hallucination, you know how to recognize it and avoid falling into the delusion. The people around you know how to deal with it and what to watch for. It’s a life Ian, a life with inconveniences and obstacles, but a life not that different than anyone else’s.”

It all sounded too good to be true. But Ian wanted to believe, wanted to think he accomplish more than just not (further) hurt the people he cared about. “That all sounds great, it’s just . . . a lot to take in.”

“I understand, I think we’ve done enough for today. The nurse is going to give you an adjusted prescription. I want you track any side effects you’re feeling and bring the list to me next week, ok?”

Ian got up to go, shaking the doctor’s hand on his way out. “I will, thank you so much for your help doctor, I mean Max.”

“Happy to do it. See you next week.”

* * *

Ian was as happy as he’d been in weeks coming home from the doctor’s office. The idea that his life wasn’t all but over was as good a feeling as any drug he’d had. Possibilities he’d forced himself to eliminate in his mind were cracking open again.

Fiona and Debbie were home when he walked in and things seemed to be tense, but they both pretended everything was fine and Ian was in too good a mood to question it.

“How was the doctor’s visit?” Fiona asked.

“It went really well, actually. He had this whole fighting the disease is like fighting a war analogy and he’s adjusting my meds, he thinks we can really lessen the side effects.”

“That’s great, Ian!” Fiona said with a big smile. “I’m proud of you for going, he sounds really good.”

“Yeah and I’m seeing him next week too. We’re going to meet for a while to talk about how to cope with things and lessen the effects and stuff.”

“Does this mean you might get back together with Mickey?” Debbie asked.

Ian couldn’t pretend that wasn’t one of the doors that cracked open in his mind. “I don’t know Debs, I was thinking about going and seeing how he was though, and telling him the good news. Why, do you need an enforcer for something?”

“No, I just miss him. He treated me like an adult,” Debbie said with a look at Fiona. “And he was funny.”

“I miss him too.” And really, if the doctor was as good as he claimed, maybe Ian could have a relationship again. Sure he’d said some bad stuff, but Mickey had never been able to stay mad at him.

“Debbie can you go give Liam his bath?” Fiona asked. Debbie made a noise but stomped upstairs without another word. Fiona looked back at him, but the smile was gone from her face.

“Listen, Ian, about Mickey . . .”

Ian couldn’t believe Fiona was going to tell him he was too good for a Milkovich for like a hundredth time. “I know you never liked him but-“

“No, that’s not it. I do like Mickey. I was actually really impressed by how he handled everything.” That quieted Ian. “But you _just_ broke up with him. With some really valid reasons, and those reasons are still there, even if you feel like there’s a light at the end of the tunnel now.”

“So you’re saying I shouldn’t see Mickey again until, when? Everything’s 100% better?”

“That’s not it, but when I asked you what happened, you told me you couldn’t handle being in a relationship, that you couldn’t deal with the pressure of him doing everything for you. Is that gone? Are you 100% sure you can handle it all now?”

Ian looked down. Things had changed but not enough for him to say what Fiona wanted him to be able to say.

“And until you can, you shouldn’t jerk him around or give him false hope. He deserves better than that.”

Ian knew that she was right, as much as he didn’t want her to be. “I am worried about him though, I just want to know he’s doing ok.”

Fiona thought for a minute. “Why don’t we send someone to stop by and check on him, really casual. How about Kev, they’re kind of friends, right? Mickey wouldn’t even know why and then you’ll know.”

Ian tried to think of a reason why that wouldn’t work but came up empty. “Sure, let’s do that.”

* * *

Kev reported back that Mickey “pissed off and grumpy as hell” but otherwise seemed fine, though he had found out that Fiona had suggested the visit and had some choice words to say about that.

Ian was in the doctor’s office again, trying not to think about various ways Mickey might get over him and find a new boyfriend when Max finally came in and interrupted his train of thought.

“Sorry I’m late, some of these kids I swear can’t write a paragraph without checking with me first.”

“No problem.” They went through the side effects list that Ian had written down and Max made a few further adjustments to his prescriptions before they moved on.

“This week, I’d like to talk about the important people in your life. Being Bipolar can put real strains on them and on your relationships with them, but there are ways you can work on them that make things better for everyone. I know your parents aren’t in the picture, and I know about Fiona and Lip. Is there anyone else you’d say has an important impact on your day-to-day life?”

Ian’s mind flashed to Mickey’ face but that obviously wasn’t true anymore. “Nope, not really.”

“You had mentioned a boyfriend, is he still in the picture?”

Ian fidgeted in his seat, pulling at his sleeves of his shirt. “No, we broke up a few weeks ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Can I ask what happened?”

He ruined things, isn’t that what always happened? “After everything that had happened, I just didn’t want to feel like I had to be fixed, or looked after, not by Mickey. He was actually really great the whole time, I just couldn’t deal.”

“I know that was probably really hard, but sometimes you have to put yourself first. You’re still in a fragile place and you have to be totally focused on fighting this. If he’s as great as you say, I’m sure he understands.”

Ian doubted Mickey understood at all. He probably hated Ian by now, and with good reason. “I didn’t really explain it very well.” He thought back to his conversation with Fiona the week before. “Do you think I’ll be able to be in a relationship again, without the Bipolar messing everything up?”

“Absolutely. I’m not saying every person you meet is going to be able to deal with some of the unique aspects that come with living with someone who’s bipolar, but the right person, they won’t even blink at it.” 

* * *

In the two months since Ian started seeing Dr. Max, it was barely an overstatement to say his whole life had changed. His body had gotten used to the amount of Lithium he was now taking and the other medications had been adjusted to reduce their side effects. It wasn’t perfect, but days now went by where Ian didn’t even think about the pills other than when his phone buzzed its reminder to take them.

Ian was following all of the rules Max had recommended about his routines. Before any of this had started he had been pretty good at taking orders in ROTC. He went to bed and got up at the same time every day. He ate at the same time every day. He followed the exercise schedule to the letter, which for him meant not pushing himself too much, rather than not enough.

He still had the job at Patsy’s, but he had also signed up for classes back at high school to get his diploma. Max and Fiona had both really encouraged him to do it, and as much as he didn’t want to have to walk those halls again, he knew it made sense. Luckily his focus on school before meant he was only one semester away from graduating. The classes were boring and he didn’t really know anyone or care to, but at least May wasn’t too far off and then he’d be done. 

As to the future beyond that, Ian still didn’t have a clue what he wanted to do with his life, but at least there were options again. Not the military, of course, that door was pretty nailed shut, but there were other things he could do. The problem was what, exactly, he did want to do.

Things had been going well enough recently he didn’t want to jinx it by celebrating anything, but Fiona insisted on throwing him an 18th birthday party. She said he deserved a reward for doing so well, but Ian was more interested in continuing to do well than celebrating it. But he couldn’t exactly say no.

So that’s how all the Gallagher siblings plus Kev, Vee, and Sean ended up at the diner after closing, sharing birthday pie (i.e. leftover pie). Ian hoped they could just eat and hang out without any big speeches but of course Fiona had other ideas, standing up and getting everyone’s attention.

“Okay, I just want to say it hasn’t been the easiest year, for any of us. Lord knows I can compare my list of fuck-ups to anyone here. But I also know how hard it can be to bounce back, and I am so proud of Ian tackling this thing head on and kicking its ass. So, happy birthday Ian!” Cheers went up and Ian tried to keep his face from turning red in embarrassment. He got up and gave Fiona a hug, whispering thank you to her for all of her support over the past few months. 

Sean came back over from the kitchen. “Ok, who wants another piece of pie?”

* * *

Ian should have known that Lip didn’t buy his excuse for bailing on the party early. He had wanted to clear his head on the walk home, but Ian’s feet didn’t exactly take him to the Gallagher house. Instead he found himself sitting on the curb across from the Milkovich house, staring into the darkened windows of his former residence.

“Doesn’t look like anybody’s home,” Lip said as he sat down beside Ian, pulling out a blunt and lighting it.

“Probably for the best,” Ian said. “I wasn’t going to talk to him anyways, but I just wanted to see him, if only from over here.”

Lip didn’t say anything in response and after a minute Ian continued. “I don’t remember much about the time between the police picking me up and waking up in the hospital. Except Mickey – I remember him hugging me when you picked me up, And I thought if Mickey could still look at me, could still touch me after . . .” Ian started to choke up. “That maybe everything wasn’t ruined.” He wiped away the tears pooling in the corners of his eyes.

Lip offered the blunt to Ian, but Ian waved it off. “Right, no marijuana,” Lip said. “Listen man, Mickey really helped you when you were sick, and good for him. But it’s in the past; you’re not together anymore. Pining over it doesn’t do you or him any good.”

Ian knew Lip was right but that didn’t make it any easier. “Yeah I know. I just don’t exactly have a lot of outlets anymore, so it’s hard not to think about.”

Lip clapped him on the shoulder. “Now that I can help with.”

* * *

It took some convincing, but Lip was like a dog with a bone once he decided it was his responsibility to get Ian laid. Ian refused to go anywhere near Boystown, too many bad memories, so Lip found a place on the South Side that was supposed to be pretty chill and wasn’t known for drugs or anything illegal.

It’s not like Ian didn’t _want_ to get laid. His sex drive had come back since he’d adjusted to the new meds and jacking off was a poor substitute for the real thing. Plus his thoughts always drifted to Mickey and well, he ended up crying and masturbating at the same time once and he’d really rather avoid that. 

So that combined with Lip’s cajoling resulted in the pair of them standing in line to get their I.D.s checked. “This is your first time using your real license,” Lip observed. “Congrats, I guess?”

Ian was going to respond when he thought he heard Mickey’s voice. He looked around, trying to figure where it had come from and if Mickey was actually around here somewhere, not paying attention to what Lip was doing in front of him. Suddenly Lip stepped away and there he was, looking as surprised as Ian felt.

* * * 

“Can you believe he wouldn’t even look at me?” Ian said, unable to get his mind off Mickey as he sipped his coke. “And I only asked him for a minute, that’s pretty reasonable, right? Like I’m sure he’s still mad at me but come on, I deserve more than that.”

“Yes, but Mickey is not the point of tonight, remember?” Lip asked, finishing off his beer. “In fact, he’s like the opposite of the point, we’re here to get you laid. Let’s focus on that.”

Ian couldn’t believe Lip was still entertaining that idea. “I can’t do that now.”

“Why not?”

“Mickey could see me leaving with somebody, I can’t do that to him.”

“It’s been months Ian, you don’t owe him anything. He could easily be sleeping with someone else, he does work at a gay bar now. It’s not like he thought you came for the sparkling atmosphere.”

“I don’t care, I’m not doing it.” Ian had hurt Mickey too many times; he wasn’t going to do anything that might cause that to happen again.

Lip rolled his eyes. “Fine, then let’s go.”

“We can’t go yet.”

Lip rubbed his face in annoyance. “Why not?”

“I don’t want Mickey thinking we left because he was here.” Ian knew this one was irrational but he didn’t care. He still had some pride left. “I just wish he would talk to me.”

“And then we could go?” Lip asked.

“Yeah, I guess. But it’s clearly not going to happen.”

Lip looked around for a minute and then grinned. “I got it, just follow me when it happens.” He stood up and bumped into some guy standing near the bar by himself. “Hey watch it asshole!”

Thirty seconds later, Mickey was dragging Lip and the other guy out the back door and Ian was following behind, trying to figure out what he was about to say.

* * *

“Two minutes,” Mickey said. “What do you want?”

“Well,” Ian said, trying to figure out how to start. “I wanted to see how you were doing. I mean this job, it seems kind of cool.” Being a bouncer at a gay bar seemed likely a weirdly perfect job for Mickey actually. He wished he could hear the story behind it.

“I’m fine, I’m fucking great, job’s great, everything’s great. We done?” Mickey wasn’t making this easy, though Ian knew he didn’t deserve easy. He figured he should just dive in before Mickey left him out here.

“I just-, I wanted to say I’m sorry, for how things ended, for what I said the last time we talked.”

“You mean when you dumped me,” Mickey said. That hit Ian like punch to the gut, but he soldiered on, knowing he probably wasn’t going to get a second opportunity to say this.

“Yeah. I’m not saying I regret doing it, but it was because of shit that I was going through, that I had to go through on my own. I don’t even really remember what I said but I’m sure it hardly made sense. You were great and did like everything you possibly could, and I just couldn’t be your boyfriend, I couldn’t handle it, so yeah, that’s it I guess.”

Ian let out a breath. He hadn’t even known that was what he’d wanted to say, but it felt like a weight was lifted. There were so many things he couldn’t control, things he’d done and couldn’t take back, but he could do this. He could apologize to Mickey and even if Mickey threw it in his face, he’d know how sorry Ian was for what he’d said. 

“Well, ok. It is what it is.” There didn’t seem to be any anger in Mickey voice, but then again there didn’t seem to be any kind of emotion behind it. Ian used to be able to read Mickey easily but couldn’t tell what was he thinking anymore.

“Thanks for listening. I guess I’ll go.” He didn’t want to force Mickey to spend any more time with him than he already had so he headed over towards Lip.

“Hey Ian!” Mickey called out after him. Ian turned around to look back at him, trying not to look hopeful. “Happy birthday asshole!”

Ian couldn’t keep the grin off his face and before he had time to overthink it, gave Mickey the finger in response. He thought he saw a hint of a smile on Mickey’s face before he was gone back inside the club.

“So did you get what you needed?” Lip asked, his nose having finally stopped bleeding from the fight.

“Yeah I did,” Ian said, lighter on his feet than he’d felt for a long time. “For now.”


End file.
